


Dark Necessities are Part of My Design

by arobarton



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Panic Attacks, Post-Civil War (Marvel), mentions of abuse, mentions of panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 02:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10427544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arobarton/pseuds/arobarton
Summary: Who wants to love somebody like meYou wanna love somebody like meIf you could love somebody like meYou must be messed up too.





	

“The Accords were a spectacular failure.” The Avengers, or what was left of them, were seated in the conference room of the compound listening to Tony’s speech. The remaining members, Natasha, Vision, and Rhodey, were all that was left after the events the public was calling The Avenger’s Civil War. Tony was ashamed he ever let it get that far. “The Accords were meant to keep us in check and we let our egos and agendas get between the ultimate goal. For that I am sorry.” He paused, sat down, and sighed. “We screwed up; I screwed up. I want to fix it.”

Natasha shifted in her seat. She and Tony did not leave on good terms. She helped Rogers and Barnes escape at the airport and Tony couldn’t let his ego go without getting in one last blow to Natasha’s. She’s wasn’t sorry she did it though; she considers Tony a friend, always has, even though they rarely see eye to eye, but she also knows Steve well enough that he wasn’t going to stop. She was grateful for the invitation back to the compound, for not having been arrested for helping Rogers escape. She looked over at Vision and then at Rhodey, who were sitting across from each other. It was tense; she deduced not much has been said between them since the airport. She turned back to Tony who was collecting his thoughts.

“Captain Rogers- Steve,” Tony started, “he broke into the Raft and rescued the others, as you know. I’ve been in contact with him since and we’ve struck a deal of sorts. We need oversight, we need to be kept in check, but there are still bad guys out there, growing in numbers every day. We can’t just stop saving the world because we ruffle some feathers. Just because the world doesn’t want us doesn’t mean they don’t need us.” He paused and rubbed his hands over his face. “So, we’ve decided to make two teams, two Avengers. A public team, the New Avengers to fight in the public eye and a private team, the Secret Avengers, to work in the background-”

“Tony,” Rhodey cut in, “that was what SHIELD was, and we saw how that turned out.”

“I agree with Rhodes,” Vision said. “If we are to continue this path, what is stopping us from becoming what SHIELD was?”

“Because we call the shots - not Fury, not a Security Council - us. We make the rules, we follow the rules, we carry out the rules. Both teams follow the council of the UN, but that’s it. We own up to our mistakes when they happen. We make the face of the New Avengers our big players.”

“Big players?” Natasha asked.

“The Enhanced,” Tony amended. “Wanda, Sam, Vision, the kid from Queens, that ant guy, they’re the face of the New Avengers. I offered a position to King T’Challa and Thor and Banner, whenever they decide to show up. And Rhodey, when you’re up for it, you as well.”

Rhodey sat in silence for a moment. “So we don’t recruit anyone new unless they’re vetted by all of us? We still seek council from the UN?”

“Yes,” Tony said, and cracked a smile. “Vision, thoughts?”

“You seem to have it all worked out, Tony,” they said, looking into space, as Vision usually does when they think. “I think it may work, as long as everyone is on board.”

Tony turned to Natasha. “What do you think?”

She grinned, “What’s not to like, I didn’t get arrested and I get reinstated in one day.” 

After the logistics of the New/Secret Avengers were discussed, Rhodey and Vision left. Natasha hung back with Tony as he stared out the window at the grounds of the compound. “So you’ve talked to Rogers?”

“I have,” Tony said, “he sent me a letter and a burner to call whenever I needed him. I got the package the same day the Raft was breached. Probably a coincidence, but that’s not Steve’s style.” Tony smirked, and turned to face Natasha. “He wants you on his team.”

“Back to being a spy,” Natasha said and crossed her arms. “I guess it could be worse.”

“I’d rather we were all on the same team, but I think it’s better this way.”

“We were never a real team Tony, we just played a team for a while.” She didn’t mean for it to sound harsh, but the look on Tony’s face said it all. She considered reaching out and touching his shoulder, but she just looked away. “So Rogers will be in charge of this new Secret Avengers?”

Tony made a noncommittal head gesture. “Well in order for the UN to approve this, we have to have some oversight. Steve and I will remain in contact and coordinate strikes and missions. The UN can suggest moves, but we make the ultimate decision. But the UN can take legal action if we screw up.”

Natasha nodded. “Well, you know I like shadows. Maybe this Secret Avengers thing is for me after all.” Tony smirked and turned toward her.

“You’re always welcome to be a New Avenger,” he said. He raised his hand as if to put on her shoulder, but thought better of it and brought it to his face. “Steve will be happy to have you.”

 

Everything was black. Not just black, but empty and dark and cold. The cold and empty stretched on for miles and miles with no end in site. Then suddenly there was a spark of red. It was short and quick, but it was there, just out of site. Longing. Again, another spark this time brighter and closer. Rusted. Panic surged through him. Furnace. Daybreak. The red was getting brighter and the panic kept growing. Seventeen. Benign. Please stop, please stop. Nine. His heart was racing, he needed to stop them but the red sparks were getting closer. Homecoming. The sparks were so bright now it drove out the darkness. One. The red was burning his eyes, bright and hot, he saw flashes of faces and of lives and felt like he was spinning out of control. Please. Freight Car.

Bucky screamed out in the chair and opened his eyes. “Where am I?!” He yelled, looking around wildly. His heart was racing and he didn’t know what time it was, what day it was, how long he’d been under. Suddenly a calming sensation washed over him and his heart rate lowered. He saw Wanda sitting next to him, her red tendrils of magic between them. She smiled at him, “I believe you’re free.” Bucky was still breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. After a few moments he was able to orient himself, though he was still worried about how much time he’d lost.

His breathing began to slow and he ran his fingers through his hair, surprised to see a new metal arm. “Free from what?” He asked after a few minutes.

Wanda smiled. “From Hydra.” She stood up and moved towards the door. “From those horrible activation words implanted into your mind. I’ve been working on it while you’ve been asleep.” She placed her hand on the door frame. “Take a break. I’ll go get Steve.” The magic slowly disappeared as Wanda walked out of the room. The calming feeling slowly lifted as Wanda walked further away. He was alone now, still worried about the words. He couldn’t imagine a world where the words didn’t hang over him like a curse.

 

Steve stared out a window at the dense Wakandan jungle. It was beautiful; he’d never seen so much green in his life. He thought back on the past few months; his fight with Tony, getting all his friends locked away, having to put Bucky under again. He regretted it all and knew he needed to make it up to them. His peace with Tony was rocky at the moment, he knew that, but he was happy to know Tony was willing to try. After everything Steve did: keeping the information about his parents a secret, nearly killing Tony, breaking into the Raft… he couldn’t believe Tony was giving him, and Bucky, another chance. Even better, with Tony on the UN’s good side, he was able to pardon Wanda, Clint, Scott, and Sam and even reinstate them. Allowing Steve to, in-part, run point on the Secret Avengers was a huge trust experiment and Steve could not screw it up.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Wanda walking toward him. He turned to her, worry creeping over his expression. They’d been at this for weeks now, ever since Wanda recovered from the Raft. Wanda would spend a few hours with Bucky while he was under, following where the words took him in his mind. Every day she would report to Steve on the progress. Every day Steve thought it would be the day, but she would always just shake her head and promise to keep working.

Today, though, today seemed different. Wanda had a little bound in her step; she smiled when she saw Steve and he started walking toward her. “Would you like to speak with your friend?” She asked.

“Is he OK?” Steve asked, breathless as he blew past Wanda back towards the room where Bucky was. Steve didn’t give Wanda enough time to answer as he was breaking into a brisk jog. When he got to the room, Steve stopped short when he saw Bucky standing and examining his new arm.

“Buck,” Steve hesitated, walking closer.

“Heya, punk,” Bucky said when he saw Steve. He was looking at Steve in a whole new light, even different than when they last fought together. Back then he felt on edge, nervous that at any second someone could trigger him and he would turn into that monster. “What’s this?” He asked, holding up his metal arm.

Steve smiled, “A gift, from King T’Challa. The technology in Wakanda is way more advanced and he wanted to extend an apology and he thought this would help. How are you feeling?”

Bucky felt himself smile, a true, genuine smile. “Good. I feel good, Steve.” Steve smiled and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Listen,” Wanda interrupted, “I’d like to try the words one more time while Steve is here, just to make sure nothing happens. Is that OK with you?” She looked at Bucky waiting for his approval.

Bucky nodded and sat down. “We don’t have to do this, Buck,” Steve said, turning to Wanda.

“Yes, we do,” Bucky insisted. He locked eyes with Wanda. “Get it over with.”  
Wanda pulled out the red book and he waited for the words to wash over him. She began speaking the words in Russian. Longing. His heart started pounding and he closed his eyes. Rusted. Furnace. The panic started to set in. Daybreak. He wanted Wanda to stop. He imagined hurting her to get her to stop saying the words. Seventeen. He shook the thought from his mind. Benign. Nine. He clenched his fists and his muscles became taught. Homecoming. His heart was out of control. He wanted to scream, he wanted to disappear. One. He didn’t want to be a monster. Freight Car.

Bucky sat there, eyes closed waiting for his murderous subconscious to take over. “Soldier?” Wanda asked, closing the book. Bucky heard her, but didn’t move. He chose not to respond. He heard the words and had a reaction to them, but he didn’t lose control. Bucky smiled and opened his eyes. He was free. For the first time in decades he was his own person. Steve walked forward and hugged Bucky and Wanda smiled sweetly while looking at her hands. Bucky broke away from Steve and walked over to Wanda. “Thank you, so much for this Wanda,” he said and offered a hand.

She brushed past his hand and hugged him instead. “I’m glad I was finally able to do some good.”

 

It’s been a few months now since the airport events, and it’s the first time all of the Avengers are together again. They lay out the groundworks for who will be on what team and what each team will be responsible for. Tony and the New Avengers recruit Sam, T’Challa, Wanda, Vision, and Scott. The New Avengers would take down overt bad guys, basically kicking butt in the public eye, and doing charity events. Rhodey being hesitant on this new direction and still working in physical therapy opted to work as a liaison between the two teams. Rhodey is also in charge of keeping track of all new enhanced that pop up. He and an inhuman from SHIELD, Daisy Johnson, work together to track down inhumans and enhanced and make sure they’re safe and not causing trouble. Rhodey mentions starting in New York, specifically Manhattan. 

Steve and the Secret Avengers recruited Natasha, Clint, Maria, and Sharon, as well as a few agents from SHIELD that Coulson has been keeping secret (Melinda May and Bobbi Morse, to be exact). Bucky also was greenlit and recruited. The Secret Avengers will work behind the scenes and focus on taking down threats before they escalate to world-destroying catastrophes.

The atmosphere at the compound felt light and hopeful as the teams settle into their new routines. Nothing is forced and no one is fighting. Natasha, finally relieved to be getting a new mission, heads to a briefing room where she’s finally alone with Steve.

“You’re a hard man to get alone,” she says, smirking at him as she takes a seat at the head of the table.

Steve smiles and nods, “Well it’s been a busy few weeks. Making sure we have the approval of the UN, especially after our last debacle, wasn’t easy.”

“It feels good, to finally be working towards something,” Natasha said, folding her arms. “So what’s the plan?”

“What, no matchmaking today?” Steve laughed. It’s been a long time since Natasha saw Steve laugh. She grinned at him and realized it’s possible she’s never seen him so relaxed.

“You think I don’t know about Sharon,” she chuckled, “give me more credit, Rogers.”

Steve shook his head and sat back in his chair, “Who told you?”

“Sam, obviously. He’s a gossip. You better watch out for him.” They laughed, any remaining tension between them lifted.

“Right, so down to business,” Steve cleared his throat and picked up a file. “We have intel there are new players on the field. They’re quiet, not much to know about them yet, but they seem to be taking over where Hydra left off.”

“No endgame?” Natasha asked as Steve slid the file across the table to her.

“Well,” he chuckled, “that’s the thing: we don’t know. We only know one person who’s connected and she’s been keeping to the shadows pretty well.”

“So this is an undercover operation. Recon only?”

“So far. It might be a long game, hard to tell. Right now it seems her goal is knowledge. The SHIELD data dump is still out there for the public to see. Even with the layers of encryption, people are viewing the data. Stark Industries has been monitoring IP addresses of who’s been accessing the data ever since Zemo.”

“That seems illegal,” Natasha said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure the UN knows about that?”

Steve shrugged. “So an IP address in Manhattan has been digging around in some highly classified files. Most have no relation to each other, but still… worth a look.”

“I agree,” Natasha said, closing the file. “File says two undercovers. I’ll brief Barton-”

“Actually,” Steve said looking nervous, “Barton’s been dispatched to Brooklyn on a different case. Russian mob showing international ties to terrorism. He requested it.”

“I see,” said Natasha, “so then who will I be working with?”

“Bucky.”

 

Bucky hadn’t really been alone since waking up, and right now he was feeling uneasy. Letting go of his past has been a struggle and being thrown into an op right out of the gate was starting to worry him. He was free from the words, but he wasn’t free from his memories and guilt.

He was staring out the doors at the entrance to the compound when Natasha slid into position by his side. She took him off guard, but her presence dragged him out of his brain. “Hi,” he said, turning to her.

“Hi,” she said, folding her arms. Bucky’s nerves about the op were almost instantly put at ease with her by his side. He didn’t know much about Natasha, other than when they fought each other on the bridge and in Odessa. She was an incredible combatant and tactician; he respected her mastery. She was the only one to ever get the drop on him during his time as the Winter Soldier. He trusted Steve and Steve trusted Natasha, so Bucky trusted her too.

They were waiting for their car to their new apartment in the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Their target was a rich, single socialite who worked for a non-profit, clean water organization: Sasha Lightwood. Their job was to track her movements, log her conversations, and infiltrate her social life.

Bucky looked over at Natasha, who was standing quietly and statuesquely at his side. He wanted to say something, anything, to talk to her, get to know her, but their car arrived and Natasha was already heading toward it. She was unnervingly smooth and lithe as she walked. She barely made a sound, and it was somewhat unsettling. He mimicked her actions and followed her to the car.

In the car, Natasha pulled out their file and started reading. “I assume you’ve read the file and know your cover?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out his phone and hitting a few buttons. A second later his metal arm had camouflaged itself to appear like skin. She looked over and raised an eyebrow. “King T’Challa gave me some upgrades.” He cleared his throat, “so, we’re newlyweds, moving into the big city after my father died and I inherited all his money. We attend galas and donate money to charities, blah blah blah.” She nodded and returned to the file. 

“Sounds about right.” She closed the file and put it away. The drive into the city was quiet. At first Bucky thought it was unnerving how silent and still Natasha was. The longer he was with her, though, the more soothing he found it. Her presence wasn’t overbearing, like Steve’s was. He was always cautious and checking to see if Bucky was OK. It was annoying. Natasha was just silent and impartial. It was a relief that Bucky didn’t have to make awkward small-talk the whole time like he did with any of the other Avengers who all obviously felt uncomfortable around him. He would have liked to make small-talk, but the silence was addicting and he was relishing it. Natasha was different. He liked it.

When the car stopped outside the apartment, however, the Natasha that exited the car was a completely different person and Bucky was unprepared.

“Look at this place!” She exclaimed with her hands in the air. “I cannot believe we’re living here! You have the best taste, darling.” She ran towards Bucky and kissed him. He realized right there that the undercover act was starting. He was so mesmerized by her extreme change in character he forgot to play along.

He smiled into the kiss and put his arms around her waist. When they broke away he smiled at her as she looked above him to the building. The sun caught her eyes and the green sparkled back at him. “Well, I thought the building should be as beautiful as you.”

She blushed and broke away. Her entire body language changed to embody this character and it was fascinating to watch, but Bucky also had a job. He changed his body language to be lighter or what he thought was lighter. He stood a little straighter and changed the angle of his shoulders. He stared after Natasha for a few more seconds before remembering to take their bags from the cab.

The elevator ride up was more of the same, new Natasha. She was cuddly and friendly, making jokes about the car ride and their new apartment. However, once inside the new apartment, she changed back to her normal, silent self. She surveyed the apartment, took her time locating every little detail of this new location. Bucky wasn’t sure why he was so fascinated with the way she moved, the way she was so quick at changing her personality, but he couldn’t stop watching her.

She turned to face him, then, and grinned. “I guess we should make ourselves at home. We have some work to do.”

 

A few days into the op, the two of them found their groove. Bucky’s cover worked as a businessman on Wall Street, so every morning he would wake up, get dressed, and leave for work while Natasha attempted to infiltrate the target’s life. The two were rarely ever in the same room together, except in the morning and at night. They slept in different rooms and spent their nights alone. Bucky was surprisingly fine with it. Natasha was focused on the op and he was able to take some time for himself while still doing his job.

By the end of the first week Natasha had successfully been introduced to the target.

“I let slip we were filthy rich,” Natasha said that night when Bucky had emerged from his bedroom. “She gave us two tickets to some swanky gala next week for her charity. Probably in hopes to get us to donate.”

“Nice,” Bucky said. He ran his fingers through his hair, which was wet after just showering. He poured himself a cup of coffee, Natasha’s drink of choice. She had a pot brewing at all hours of the day, and Bucky had taken to enjoying it as well. He sighed and sat down on the couch, drinking deeply.

Natasha looked over at him. They had only been living together for a week now, but she noticed Barnes was quiet. Not just quiet, but thoughtful, like he was always remembering something new and gave it his full attention. Natasha had to keep reminding herself of who Barnes was and what he had been through. His memories were foggy, it seemed, and sometimes he was miles away. Thankfully he hadn’t needed to do any undercover work yet, because his distance and disjointed appearance was worrisome.

“We should probably practice your cover,” she said. “This woman, if she’s who we think she is, is smart. We have to be convincing.”

“I can be convincing,” Bucky said defensively. “You just haven’t seen me in action yet. I know what I’m doing.” Natasha smirked and went back to her coffee. She was sitting at the kitchen bar, clicking away at a laptop in front of her. “Have you been tracing her online movements?” Bucky asked.

“Yes, nothing suspicious yet,” Natasha answered. During the days, instead of actually going to Wall Street, Bucky would double back and lie in wait for the target to leave her apartment. He tracked her movements throughout the city, while Natasha hacked into her home computer and traced her online movements.

“Same,” Bucky said. He ran his hand down his face. “It’s Friday night, does she have any plans?”

Natasha clicked at the computer and nodded. “Her schedule says she’s meeting friends for drinks later. Doesn’t say where though.” She took a sip of her coffee and looked over at Bucky. “We need to tag her phone.”

He nodded and reached for the remote. “We can do that at the gala?”

Natasha thought about it for a second and closed the laptop. “That’s doable. Gives us another week to track her movements and get a feel for her schedule.” Bucky looked towards Natasha as a sign he registered her comment. They locked eyes for a second and his heart sped up a little. She looked away first, and Bucky stifled the feeling. He turned back the TV and decided on some reality show. “What’s this?” Bucky asked, pointing to the TV.

Natasha got up from the kitchen and sat on the couch with Bucky. “Say Yes to the Dress.”

“Just saying the name of the show doesn’t help me,” Bucky blurted, rolling his eyes.

Natasha, without missing a beat, said “You have eyes. You can read what the menu says.” Bucky looked over to her at grinned. He was wondering when she would loosen up. He pressed the information button on the remote and read the show description.

“People actually watch this?” He scoffed. Natasha shrugged. “I don’t get it,” Bucky continued. He made a motion to change the channel, but just then Randy appeared with a dress to save the day and Bucky’s attention.

Natasha got up off the couch and started walking toward her bedroom. “I’m going to bed.” Bucky waved her off as the bride started crying.

Around 1 AM Natasha heard a commotion from the living room. She had put on some music and was stretching when indiscernible yelling disrupted her zone. She walked out into the living area to see Bucky sitting in the same position she left him, except now with a blanket over him, yelling at the TV. She turned to see he was still watching Say Yes to the Dress and he had learned all the names and dress styles.

“They have her in an A-Line when she asked for a mermaid,” he exclaimed with his hand raised in exasperation. “It’s an ametuer move! Where’s Randy? He’ll fix this disaster.” He hadn’t even noticed Natasha walk in until she cleared her throat. When he saw her he sat upright and fumbled with the remote and changed the channel to ESPN. “Oh, hey Natasha, I was just watching-” he paused and looked at the TV, “-badminton?” He was blushing and in such a daze he hadn’t realized he watched hours of trashy reality TV and that Natasha had just caught him. He squinted his eyes waiting for her to laugh.

“Have they played a bridesmaids episode yet?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky’s eyes widened. “There’s a bridesmaid episode?”

Natasha moved over to the couch and took the remote from him. “There’s a whole other show dedicated to bridesmaids. I’m surprised they didn’t play an episode.”

“I need to watch that,” he said somewhat giddy. “Can you imagine the drama…”

“Yes,” Natasha said. “I can’t believe you’re actually watching this…” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“I was wrong. Is that what you want to hear?” Natasha didn’t respond. Instead she just smirked to herself and played a new episode.

 

Somewhere around 4 episodes in, Bucky had fallen asleep on the couch and was snoring slightly. Natasha turned the sound down and was still watching. She envied his ability to fall asleep. It sometimes took her hours to fall asleep, and then her mind would replay her very real memories. She would welcome the nightmares others experienced. In her dreams, she was the monster.

She realized she had been staring at Bucky when he moved slightly. It was a jerky motion she knew well. His breathing had become staggered and he started whispering in Russian. Natasha knew what was happening so she turned off the TV and moved closer to him on the couch. She watched him as his whispers turned into yells. She wanted to reach out to his face and calm him but he only grew more restless. Finally with a loud yell he bolted upright staring wildly around the room.

“Where am I?!” He shouted in Russian. “Where I am I?”

Natasha moved in front of him and grabbed his face. In Russian she whispered, “James, you’re in New York City, Manhattan. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You’re safe. It’s the 15th of October 2016. You fell asleep watching TV with me, Natalia. You’ve only been asleep for an hour. You’re okay.” He stared at her as his breathing returned to normal. When she said her name he squinted slightly.

“Natalia,” he said. It felt familiar on his tongue, but he wasn’t sure why. He stood up suddenly and walked away from her. “I’m sorry. I usually have my phone with me… or-or a watch.” He was still shaking slightly. “I like to know… the time and place where I fall asleep.” He looked over to Natasha who was watching him silently. She nodded but kept her distance. He ran his hands through his hair then down his face. “I’m a mess.”

Natasha slowly made her way over to him. “Been there,” she said sitting down at the bar. “I understand.” Bucky always hated when people said that. But this time, coming from Natasha, he felt reassured. Something about her voice let him know she really did understand. They made eye contact and held it for a few seconds. Natasha looked away first and folded her arms. “I should go to bed.” She stood up from the stool and walked into her bedroom without another word.

 

The next day Natasha didn’t come out of her room until mid-afternoon. Bucky was reviewing Ms Lightwood’s movements at the kitchen bar when she emerged. She was still wearing her pajamas and her hair was slightly tousled. Bucky smiled and poured her a cup of coffee. “Good morning,” he said brightly as he handed her the cup.

“Mmm,” she hummed, sipping from the mug. Bucky stared at her while she drank. He wanted to ask her a question, but she literally just woke up it seemed. Almost as if she had read his mind, she hissed, “Spit it out, Barnes.”

Bucky hung his head for a moment, deciding how to ask. He looked up at her after a few beats and said, “You wear Iron Man pajamas?” Natasha’s eyes widened as she realized the t-shirt she was wearing. Bucky put up his hand. “No, no, it looks good on you!” Natasha gave him a look and he laughed. Natasha cracked a smile, a real smile, not a smirk or a grin. Bucky pointed at her face then. “I didn’t think your face could do that.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “What’s Ms. Lightwood up to today?” Bucky continued to smile as he explained an unexpected appointment had popped up on her schedule within the last half hour.

“It’s for tonight at a fancy restaurant,” he explained. “Don’t know who with, but it’s not her friends or coworkers.” Natasha shrugged and took a sip of her coffee.

“Might be worth it to investigate. Are you up for a little roleplay?” She asked, raising her eyebrow. Bucky grinned.

“Always.”

 

A few hours later Natasha and Bucky had secured reservations at La Chambre, an upscale, French restaurant in the Upper West Side. Ms. Lightwood was set to arrive at 9 PM. Natasha had schmoozed the hostess into giving up the location of Ms. Lightwood’s usual table and the pair had requested one in the same vicinity.

Bucky looked at his watch again. “It’s 9:20,” he mumbled. Natasha leaned across the table and grabbed his hand.

“Relax,” she whispered. “I found the most amazing pumpkin pie recipe today!” Bucky, again, was taken aback by her sudden change in personality. The way she gave herself completely to her character was breathtaking. Bucky smiled.

“Tell me about it,” he coaxed, playing the dutiful lover. She inhaled and began rambling about something called Pinterest and pie crusts and before long Bucky was completely lost. But he stared at her lips moving. He watched her eyes light up with every new ingredient she mentioned. He didn’t need to even know what she was talking about because he was enthralled just watching her craft this character.

It was a few seconds before he realized she had asked him a question. “Sorry,” he apologized and blushed.

Natasha, who had never released his hand, gave it a squeeze. “I asked if I should try baking it for Thanksgiving?”

“Oh!” He choked. Before he could answer Natasha’s eyes flicked behind him and she let go of his hand.

“Sasha! Hi!” She called out behind him. She stood up and walked over to a tall woman, Chinese, with long, flowing black hair. The woman was smiling at Natasha and hugged her when they reached each other.

“Natalie, darling! How are you?” Sasha Lightwood said as she pulled out of the hug. She left a hand on Natasha’s shoulder and fingered a strand of her hair. “You look lovely.”

“Oh, stop,” Natasha said, waving her hand.

“No, really,” Sasha continued, “green looks good on you. Out on a date?” Sasha looked behind Natasha and made eye contact with Bucky.

“Yes, sorry,” Natasha said, grabbing Bucky’s hand and pulling him out of his seat. “This is John, my husband. I get excited saying that!” Sasha extended her hand and Bucky took it and kissed the back of it.

“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Lightwood,” Bucky said. “Natalie told me about your invitation to the gala next week. I wanted to thank you in person. Glad we finally met.”

“Yes,” Sasha said, eyeing Bucky. “I am too. It’s always nice to see fresh faces in the building.” Just then, a waiter whispered something in Sasha’s ear. “Oh, do excuse me.”

“Oh, sorry,” Natasha said, lowering her head. “Enjoy your dinner!” Sasha waved and turned to sit at her table where a man in a suit was holding the chair.

 

The rest of dinner was uneventful. Bucky was pretty good at undercover spy work, as long as his partner was Nastasha. She made it easy. Her character was almost second nature to her. She was able to keep up a conversation and log the movements of Sasha and the mystery man. Near the end of their meal, Natasha excused herself to use the bathroom. As she walked by he caught a scent of her perfume and his head spun. His mind followed her instead of the mission, so when he looked up he was startled to see their target walking towards the door with the man.

Bucky wasn't sure what to do, since it would be too obvious to follow her out. He had no idea what the meeting was about and he had no idea where she was going after. He made a move to stand up when he felt a hand on his shoulder push him back into his seat.

“Slow your roll,” Natasha said as she leaned into his shoulder. She bent down to whisper in his ear, “I tagged their cars.”

She stood straight and giggled. She moved back to her seat where Bucky was staring at her in awe. She was smiling at him but he noted her eyes widened slightly. It was the gentle nudge he needed to resume his character. He put on his best suave expression and said, “I think we should get out of here.” Natasha nodded vigorously and stood up. He followed suit and extended an arm which she took.

When they were outside, Bucky took a deep breath of the New York City air. Natasha was looking up at him and smiled. “Do you want to walk home?” She asked. He looked over at her and nodded. He held out his arm for her, knowing that they didn’t need to be undercover at the moment. And so, they took off in the direction of their apartment, arm in arm.

Natasha was so comfortable on Bucky’s arm. She fell into step with him easily, in more ways than just walking together. Sure, they hadn't really spoken much beyond their covers, but Natasha was at ease by his side. So when she leaned her head onto his shoulders as they walked, he wondered if she was just that good at pretending or if it was what she really wanted. Of course it was really what she wanted, but it’s not what he needed right now.

Their walk was mostly silent. Even though they didn't need their covers at the moment, they still had their arms linked the entire time. As they approached their building, Bucky realized they should have been tracking their target.

“Is she going home?” Bucky asked, suddenly tense. He’d been so caught up with Natasha’s presence on his arm he had forgotten the mission. He needed to focus more; Steve was counting on him to not screw this up. So he pulled away from Natasha slightly and held her hand instead. There, he thought, that’s some distance for me to think.

Natasha didn’t miss a beat. She fell into step with him no matter what his movement was. However, she felt her heart stutter when he pulled away and she shamed herself for it. To distract herself, she pulled out her phone and checked on the target. “She is indeed headed home, or at least, her car is.”

Bucky nodded. Two more blocks until they were home and he could let go of her hand. Two more blocks until he could go to his room, or sit on the couch and she could go to her room. Regardless, two more blocks and he could have the scent of her out of his brain for a couple of hours.

In those two blocks Natasha could feel Bucky pulling away. His act was slowly fading and he became withdrawn from her. She needed him to focus for just a little longer. She knew it was her fault, though. Her act might seem confusing for most, but for him? He was probably thinking this character was her. So in those two blocks, she also pulled back slightly. When they walked up the stairs and greeted the doorman to their building, Natasha pulled all the weight of the conversation as Bucky fell deeper into thought.

In the elevator, they dropped hands immediately and stood on opposite walls. Bucky leaned against his wall and stared at his feet, too afraid to make eye contact with Natasha, too afraid his heart would skip a beat, too afraid to jeopardize the mission. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and willed the elevator to move faster. Finally, the doors opened and he rushed ahead, unlocked their apartment, and briskly said goodnight and vanished into his room.

Natasha locked up behind him and leaned against the door. She looked after him, but her breathing was steady. She had to keep reminding herself who he was now. He was Bucky, Steve’s Bucky. Not her James. She sighed and strolled over to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and check in with their target. Sleep wouldn’t come to her tonight.

 

Bucky lied in bed all through the night, staring at the ceiling, listening to Natasha putz around the kitchen and living room. He could smell her pot of coffee brewing and could hear her tapping away at the laptop. She was doing her job. She was focused on the mission, and here he was, lying in bed, pinning for someone he didn’t even know all because he liked the way she smiled at him and the way she felt on his arm.

But then suddenly, Bucky thought of the other night when Natasha had called herself Natalia. In the heat of the moment, he hadn’t given it much thought. There was so much he didn’t know about Natasha, that he assumed Natalia was another codename. But now, lying in the dark, listening to her movements in the kitchen, he could almost recognize Natalia. Something about the way she had calmed him down was familiar. So familiar it worked and he had felt immediately calm. Whatever it was she did, he knew she had done it before, but the memory slipped away and he was left with darkness. He usually fought the darkness, tried to stay above it, but tonight he turned over, and let it consume him.

 

That night, through the darkness, Bucky resolved to be professional and competent for the rest of the mission. He would play his part and gain information on their target and only interact with Natasha when necessary. Bucky, through his contemplation, realized how ridiculous he was being. He had only spent about two weeks with Natasha alone but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was fascinating to watch her work, to mold her character around the people she was with. And it was also that he knew just how deadly she was, as she’s the only one to ever get the drop on him. But his heart skipped a beat when they were together and that was risky for the mission. So he would put on a brave face and make Steve proud. He always wanted to make Steve proud.

The week slipped away at a steady pace. Bucky trailed their target and Natasha studied her patterns: friends, family, schedule. They tended to stay to themselves, only emerging from their rooms to eat or follow the target. Natasha was becoming accustomed to the day by herself. She wouldn’t leave her room until Bucky left and then would go back into hiding a few minutes before he arrived home. She wasn’t avoiding him, she promised herself she wasn’t. But she felt he needed to be alone. So she let him be alone.

Friday arrived sooner than Bucky had expected. He had been so caught up with his morning routine he jumped when he saw Natasha in the kitchen that morning.

“You’re up early,” he said, heart already thudding a little too quickly.

Natasha was sitting at the kitchen bar, holding a mug of coffee. She was staring at the laptop in front of her. “Yes,” she started, looking up at him, “tonight’s the gala, so I’m just preparing.”

“The gala,” Bucky sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Don’t tell me you forgot that was tonight,” Natasha smirked, raising an eyebrow. “We need to tag her phone tonight. I have it all planned out, you just have to smile and look pretty.”

Bucky smirked and moved towards the coffee pot. “Easy enough when you’ve got a partner as good as you.”

Natasha took a quick swig of her coffee to hide her smirk. Her heart skipped a beat and she made herself look back at the laptop. She could hear Bucky pouring himself a cup of coffee and take a seat next to her at the bar.

“So,” he said, taking a sip and settling into his seat, “what’s the plan, partner?”

 

The plan was simple, for Bucky, at least. In so many words Bucky new Natasha didn’t trust him with a job this heavy. So his duty was to look pretty and schmooze the target. Bucky hadn’t schmoozed anyone in years, decades, in fact, but back in the day he was pretty good at it. Or so Steve claims. Things were still fuzzy from… before.

He put those thoughts away, now, though, because Natasha had just waltzed out of her room in a gorgeous black gown. It was a sweetheart neckline with a chiffon bottom (thank you, Say Yes to the Dress). Her hair was down and pulled to one side. It flowed in beautiful, loose curls. For a moment Bucky was stunned and stood in silence. She finally met his stare and raised an eyebrow. “You clean up pretty well,” she smirked.

Bucky looked down, stuffing his hands in his suit pockets. “Not so bad yourself, Romanoff,” he mumbled. Natasha’s smirked turned into a grin as she grabbed her clutch.

“Every girl needs her essentials,” she teased, pulling out lipstick and her phone. She twisted the bottom of the lipstick tube open to reveal a tiny SIM card.

“I'm sure that color looks great on you,” Bucky said, and he opened the door for her. Natasha put her things back into her clutch and lead the way out of the apartment.

Bucky knew from the moment they walked out the door Natasha would be Natalie and he would be John. He could be John, because John loved Natalie. He could easily love Natasha, he'd realized, so he knew he could play this part.

 

The gala had gone smoothly enough so far. They hadn't seen any sign of the target, but Bucky was pleased with his acting abilities. He even managed to schmooze another party goer so much she was fawning all over him.

“Easy on the smooth talk,” Natasha said quietly as they walked away. “You're supposed to be married to me.”

Bucky laughed and pulled her into him. “How could I forget?” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, slowly. His nose brushed up against her cheek and he could smell her perfume. Earthy and full. Something in him stiffened and suddenly he was somewhere else. A gym, maybe. Natasha was standing across from him, hair pulled back, fists raised towards him.

He was jolted back by Natasha pushing him towards the bathrooms. He was sweating and clammy and disoriented. Where was he? When was he? He felt his heartbeat rising and his chest tightening. Natasha guided him into the bathroom, locked the door, and turned to him.

She placed a hand on either side of his face. “You are James Buchanan Barnes. You're with me, Natalia, undercover at a gala. We’re here to tag the target’s phone. You didn't fall asleep, you didn't lose any time.” She was gentle and it was a few seconds before he realized she was speaking Russian.

His breathing was hitching but slowly he began to regain some semblance of awareness. “Natalia,” he said, and stared into her eyes. He placed his hands on top of hers and closed his eyes. He listened to her breathing and tried to match it. “I…,” he started. “I don't know what happened. I'm sorry.”

“A panic attack,” she said coolly. “They happen. It's okay. We’ll just make ourselves look a little disheveled so people think we couldn't keep our hands off each other.” Bucky opened his eyes to see her grinning. He stroked a thumb over her hand and raised an eyebrow.

Natasha rolled her eyes and pulled her hands away. “You pulled it together quickly.”

“Yeah, well, you exactly how to help,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “How do you know how to do that? How do you know what I need to hear?”

Natasha dropped her gaze to the floor and moved over to a sink. “I learned it from a friend. Always used to help him.”

Bucky sighed. “I didn't realize Barton went through so much after he was brainwashed.”

Natasha eyed him through the mirror, then dropped her head and smirked. “Yeah. Barton.” She spun around suddenly and walked towards Bucky. “Ok, time to get to work.”

 

Back out in the main floor, they'd finally spotted their target. She was near a group of people, chatting about on of the art pieces. Natasha slid her arm through Bucky’s and slowly but purposefully maneuvered their way towards the group. The plan was for Bucky to distract the target while Natasha slipped away, tagged the phone, then slipped back without being noticed. Bucky had practice earlier schmoozing, but now was the real deal.

Bucky’s hands started to feel clammy, but Natasha reached up to kiss his cheek. She lingered there for a moment and whispered, “you'll do great, Barnes,” then she sauntered away. 

Bucky stepped toward Sasha, who was now only with one other person, and cleared his throat. “Ms Lightwood! Hi.” She smiled at him, taking a moment to place him. “John! Your new neighbor. I just wanted to thank you, again, for inviting us.”

“Oh, John! Of course,” she said, and leaned in for him to kiss her cheek. Bucky obliged and when he pulled back she had slipped an arm through his. “Where is dear Natalie? She left you all alone.”

“She just popped off to the bathroom. Of course it was when I spotted you, that's why I came over alone. I hadn't seen you all evening. I wanted to thank-”

“Oh, if you thank me one more time,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Come, let me show you my favorite painting.”

Bucky smiled and allowed to be carted off towards a piece of art that looked like a bunch of random colors thrown together. He listened to her talk about how she loved it, but Bucky had seen Steve paint better pieces. Though he hadn't seen Steve draw or do anything artistic in a long time. Hell, he hadn't even seen Steve in a long time. A wave of nostalgia washed over him and he had to pin his mind to this spot, this moment so he could keep up the act.

Thankfully, he felt a small pinch on his other arm. He turned his head to find Natasha standing there, smiling broadly at their target.

“Natalie, dear, there you are! You look lovely,” Sasha said, leaning in to kiss Natasha’s cheek.

“As do you! This gala is wonderful. The art is just exquisite! Did you pick out all the pieces yourself?” Bucky sighed in relief. Natasha was here to save the day. Not that he was struggling, but she had a certain knack for saying exactly the right thing at the right moment. It also meant she'd succeeded in tagging the phone. Bucky hadn’t even seen her do it, that’s how good she was.  
Eventually Sasha was pulled away by some other party-goer and Bucky and Natasha walked arm and arm around the room, making surface conversation about the art pieces. They came upon a piece of swirling reds, blacks, and whites. No real image was there, just colors swarming across the canvas. They had both stopped walking, stopped talking, and stared at the piece together in silence.

“I like this one,” Natasha finally said. Bucky tore his eyes from the painting and fixed them on Natasha. Something in her softened, he noticed. A crack in her character, a small piece of herself slipped through as she observed the painting. Bucky knew that it wasn’t Natalie who liked this painting, but Natasha.

“I’ll buy it for you,” Bucky said, watching her reaction. He knew it was foolish to purchase something while on mission, especially on mission. They’d track his bank account and see it was a front with an Avengers credit. But, still, if he could make Natasha look like she did now while looking at that painting, it would be worth it.

Natasha’s eyes moved from the painting to Bucky quickly, then back the painting. “No,” she sighed, “I’d have nowhere to put it.” Bucky noticed the slip in her character. The subtle sadness in her voice that she thought she didn’t have anywhere to hang a beautiful painting.

“You have an apartment,” Bucky replied, still not letting it go. But just like that, Natasha resumed character. She was smiling and laughing at something as someone walked by, so Bucky smiled as well. Soon they were walking away from the painting and moving on with the night.

 

They didn’t see the target alone for the rest of the evening. She was constantly hounded by socialites and press and security. Eventually the event began its decline and Bucky and Natasha left behind a large group of drunk elderly women. One of them, in their tipsy stupor, spotted the two of them.

“You’re such a lovely couple! Young and in love, no doubt!” She grabbed Bucky’s free arm and gave it a squeeze. “Oh, he’ll treat you well, dearie!” She giggled to herself and her friends as Bucky feigned politeness. Natasha placed a hand on his arm then, as if to say, at ease, and he felt slightly calmer.

“Thank you, I think I’ll keep him,” Natasha smirked, and the women ate it up. They kept murmuring and eyeing up Bucky until their cars arrived. Bucky felt uncomfortable to be so watched.

Natasha leaned her head on his shoulder and whispered, “what’s the matter, soldier? Not used to the female gaze?”

Bucky felt his chest loosen and he let out a small laugh. “They’re not the females I’d like gazing at me.” He shifted his eyes to the top of her head, her face unseen, but he could have sworn he felt a smile spread across her lips. Then he felt her shiver slightly as the wind blew around them. He unhooked her arm from his and silently placed his jacket over her bare shoulders.

Natasha nodded her head in thanks and folded her arms around herself as Bucky hailed a taxi. Soon they were speeding home. Silently, Natasha pulled out her phone and tracked the target. She was warm in Bucky’s jacket as his smell filled her nostrils. Her head was swimming with memories, and it was a struggle to force herself to focus. His smell was warm and inviting, reminding her of home. Home. She didn’t have a home anymore, she reminded herself. She shifted slightly in her seat and Bucky looked over at her.

“You ok?” He asked quietly. She nodded without looking up from her phone.

“Just tired.” Silence. Bucky could feel whatever closeness they had experienced outside fading away. Bucky, again, had to remind himself that Natasha was doing her job. He was the one making things bigger than they were. This was an act. No matter what he felt, she was just acting.

 

That night, Bucky couldn’t sleep. Somewhere around 3 AM he decided to go out into the kitchen, make a pot of coffee, and binge watch some trashy reality TV. Anything to get Natasha out of his head. He decided on some show called The Great British Bake Off. He liked their accents and it was relaxing to watch them ice cakes and cupcakes.

It wasn’t that he was even that anxious, but sometimes his mind ran in circles. Sometimes faces would pop up and he couldn’t erase their horrified expressions. So many faces through the years. When he was still under Hydra’s control, being put on ice was scary but it was a relief to not think. To not remember the faces of all the people he killed.

The mission had been a nice distraction from his memories, but for some reason, tonight his mind decided to take a stroll down memory lane. Howard cross his mind a few times, but more often Maria Stark took over. Her voice echoed through Bucky’s head even now, calling for Howard.

Bucky turned over on the couch to face away from the TV. His insides started squirming as more faces passed through his mind. Names and targets and innocent people whose lives ended because of him. The guilt never hit him until later, usually much later. The longer he was away from Hydra the more of himself came back. Eventually the words would wear off, he never knew how, or why, but eventually he'd come to and guilt would rush in where numbness had just been. Through the years it was just better to stick to the mission then go back to sleep.

He lied there for what seemed like hours before his memories slipped him into restless sleep. His dreams were always memories of the people he'd killed. So when he woke up he didn't know if it was reality or if he was still under. But tonight was different. Eventually the faces fell away until he was in a gym.

He walked through the gym with purpose, on a hunt for something. No, someone. He finally found girl with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was stretching near a corner, clearly wanting to be alone. But Bucky approached her. When she saw him, she stood straight at attention, waiting for his command.

“Show me your skills,” he said in Russian. She nodded, and lunged toward him. But he was too quick, and he countered her punch. Soon they were in the middle of sparring. The girl was quick and lithe, seeming to counter Bucky’s moves quicker than anyone he’d fought before. He was enjoying fighting her. She was a good match, a good partner. They were starting to get into a rhythm: strike, counter, strike, counter. Suddenly though, the girl swung her leg up over his shoulder and pulled him down with her body weight. He countered by grabbing her neck and holder her in place. Their eyes met and suddenly they were somewhere else.

A caffeteria? Or a conference room? They were still in the same position, eyes locked, his hand around her throat. But this time Bucky felt numb. No emotion for the girl in front of him.

“You could at least recognize me,” she whispered. He felt his chest tighten then-

He sat upright, breathing heavy, sweating and cold at the same time. He was disoriented and lost and confused. His heart was racing and his chest was tight. Natasha. The girl he was fighting was Natasha.

Bucky grabbed his phone off the coffee table to check the time and date, his usual routine to help him calm down when he woke up. He’d only been asleep for a few hours. The Great British Bake Off was still playing, though he’d missed a huge chunk of episodes. He tried to slow his breathing and mentally used the technique Natasha had with him.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes. I’ve only been asleep for 3 hours. I’m in an apartment in New York on a mission with…,” he trailed off, looking in the direction of Natasha’s bedroom.

Was that a memory? It’s true, Bucky knew there were holes in his memory. He was used by Hydra for centuries. There’s no way a human brain can keep all those memories stored away, especially under extreme duress. But that dream felt like all his other ones: familiar. That place he’d been, the gym. He knew it. He was there, he knew he had been. But the dream was slipping away and the memories were fading.

He stood up, turned the TV off, and walked walked back to his bedroom where he was lie in bed until it was appropriate to be awake on a Saturday.

 

Natasha emerged from her room that Saturday morning around 11 and noticed a mug on the coffee table and half a pot of cold coffee in the pot. She made a mental note to ask Bucky to pick up after himself but thought better of it. If he was up at god knows what hour of the night making coffee, he was allowed to leave the mug around every now and then.

She was in the middle of washing the mug and pot when Bucky came out of his room. “Rough night?” she asked without turning to him.

He chuckled quietly. “You have no idea.” He pulled a barstool out and sat down. Natasha put the coffee pot back on the burner and started the pot. Then she turned to face Bucky who was staring at her in a new light. He looked exhausted, yes, but his eyes were light and and playful.

“You seem chipper.” She grabbed two mugs from the cabinet and placed them in front of the coffee pot. Then she pulled out a barstool and sat across from him.

“I was thinking we should do something fun to take the edge off the mission.” He crossed his arms in front of him and continued to stare at her, gauging her reaction.

“Has the mission been that stressful?” She asked, clasping her hands together on her lap. “Because, if so, we-”

“No!” Bucky exclaimed. “No, I just meant…,” he paused and ran his hands through his hair. “I just meant to take a break. Just go grab a drink or something tonight. The target doesn’t have any unusual plans tonight, so we can go out? Put in a little extra backstory for our covers. Get to know each other.”

Natasha mulled over his words. “Ok,” she shrugged, “I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Bucky smirked. 

“Great,” he said, standing. “It's a date.” He moved over to the coffee pot and poured their coffee. Natasha nodded her head in thanks, then bustled off back to her room. Bucky grinned after her, feeling a lightness in his chest he hadn't felt in a long time.

 

A few hours later, Natasha had placed three different outfits on her bed. She had been standing in front of them for what seemed like hours. She had no idea why this was such a struggle for her. Her wardrobe consisted of basically the same thing in different variations. But for some reason, she wanted to make an effort for Bucky. In the end, she decided on her usual black jeans, red shirt, and leather jacket combo. It felt too fake to dress up and she didn’t need to act any more fake around Bucky.

She came out of her room to find Bucky perched on the arm of the couch wearing jeans and a black henley waiting for her. He grinned broadly when he saw her. “Ready?” Natasha nodded and followed him out the front door. 

Bucky lead them to an Irish pub down the block. They found a high top table near the bar and ordered two beers. Bucky took a large swig from his then crossed his arms on the table and looked at Natasha.

“So,” he said, and waited.

“Sew buttons ice cream and see what you get,” Natasha said, raising an eyebrow and Bucky.

Bucky laughed, a true, genuine laugh and Natasha felt her barrier start to melt away. She took a sip of her beer to distract herself.

“Tell me about yourself, Natasha,” Bucky said, looking and feeling more relaxed that he had been in a long time.

Natasha looked up from her beer a smirked. “What do you want to know?”

“About you.”

“Why?”

Bucky leaned back in his chair. “Why are you making this difficult?”

“Why are you so interested?”

“You’re my partner. You’re supposed to trust your partner-”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“I don’t know you. You know this is the longest conversation we’ve had since we started this mission? I just-” Bucky paused to run his hands through his hair. “I’ve read your file, you know?”

Natasha’s grin wavered. “Everyone’s read my file. I dumped it on the web.”

“I know you’ve read my file too. We have a lot of… similarities. Brainwashing, assassinations, enhanced biochemistry. I just thought we could, you know, relate to each other.”

Natasha took another sip of her beer. “Ok. Anything specific you’re curious about?”

Bucky stared at her for a few seconds then took a long drag from his glass. Natasha was preparing herself for the worst, most triggering question when Bucky surprised her.

“What’s your favorite color?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

Natasha stared at him, trying to hold back a laugh. “I thought you would ask a serious question.”

“This is serious! You have to start small. I don't expect you to tell me every little detail about your life.” Bucky smiled at her. It was sweet and encouraging. “If color is too scandalous, how about-”

“It’s green.” Natasha took a sip of her drink and looked away. 

“Hmmm,” Bucky hummed, “you do seem like a green kind of gal.”

Natasha chuckled. “It reminds me of spring.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and took another sip of her beer. Bucky could tell even that little bit of information was difficult for her to divulge, even if I was as silly as her favorite color.

“Well,” he feign whispered, “I won't tell anyone green’s your favorite. I'll let everyone know it's red. Throw them off.” He winked and finished his beer.

Natasha smirked into her drink as she finished hers as well. “I'll grab the next round.” And she was up and on the way to the bar with their empty glasses before he could protest.

As she passed by he got a whiff of her perfume again and the earthy smell made him feel at ease. His phone buzzed suddenly and when he pulled it from his pocket he saw a message from Steve.

Steve: How's the mission?

Bucky was in the middle of typing a response when Natasha put their beers down in front of them, pulled her chair closer to his, and put her arm around him. He looked up to see her staring at him, eyes wide, with a fake smile on her face.

“What's the matter? Someone try to slip you a Mickey?” He asked. He was about to turn his head to check but Natasha grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. Her lips were soft and gentle and her scent was filling his nostrils. His head started getting foggy and he almost forgot where he was, as he leaned into her.

She pulled away gently and moved her lips up to his ear. “The man who met with Sasha at dinner a few weeks ago is at the bar.” She pulled back and smiled at him.

Bucky’s heart sank slightly realizing the kiss had been an act for the man to see. He smiled at her, nodded, and put a hand on her knee. Playing along was necessary for the mission, so that's what he did.

“How long has he been here?” Bucky asked as Natasha pulled away from him to take a drink of her beer. Bucky mimicked her, thankful his back was to the man.

“He walked in as I ordered. I was looking through Sasha’s contacts and private calendar and I didn't see her meeting with him anywhere. Also, no messages on the day of their meeting to set anything up.”

“Could she have a burner?”

Natasha contemplated this. “That's probably the most logical thing. And dumb of me to overlook.”

Bucky clicked his tongue. “Please, that's not that hard to overlook. You never cease to amaze me.”

Natasha’s face softened for a moment before her facade reappeared. “Still. That'll be harder to find. Impossible really. Unless we break into her apartment. Though-”

“She’ll probably have a burner on her at all times.”

“Exactly.”

Bucky ran a hand down his face. He smiled then, picked up his beer, and jerked his head towards Natasha. “We’ll make it work.”

Natasha picked up her beer and clinked his glass. She took a long drag from it, then looked Bucky in the eyes.

“Slipped me a Mickey?”

Bucky laughed. “What! That's still a thing!”

“You better let me do the talking or you'll show your age.” Her face was serious but there was a playfulness to her voice. She took another swig of her beer and Bucky did the same, grateful she was starting to loosen up around him. He was especially grateful she was still sitting closer to her, even if it was just because of their cover. 

But Bucky was two beers in and feeling relatively good, so he took his chances and leaned in closer to Natasha. “I'm not that old, doll.”

“Ha!” Natasha threw head head back with laughter, something Bucky had never seen her do even while acting. His shock must have registered with her because she composed herself relatively quickly. “No, not old at all.” She smiled sweetly at him. He grinned into the table and Natasha’s first instinct was to put her hand under his chin and lift his head so she could see his eyes. Her fingers twitched slightly thinking about the movement. She caught herself, though, not knowing how Bucky would react and, instead, reached for her beer. 

“How's Mr Mysterious doing?” Bucky asked, reaching for his own beer as he pulled away slightly from Natasha.

Natasha did a quick glance towards the bar, then a quicker stretch of her back to look over her shoulder. “Suddenly vanished.”

“Perfect time to use the restroom, I guess,” Bucky said standing. For added emphasis he leaned in and quickly kissed Natasha's cheek. “Don't miss me too much.”

Natasha tried to hide her smile as he walked away. She’d been enjoying herself. With him, she felt like herself. He didn't expect anything from her and she expected nothing from him. The closest to herself she's felt in years was when she was with Clint, but even then, she was guarded. Bucky’s realization that they had similar pasts was a weight lifted off her shoulders for some reason. Everyone tiptoed around her because they were either afraid of her or intimidated by her. Bucky felt the same way, even around Steve, she was sure. Even if he wasn't James, she still felt at ease with him.

She was lost in thought when Bucky returned to the table. “Our mystery man is truly… a man of mystery.” Natasha stared at Bucky then did a quick look around the room. She wasn't used to misplacing targets and she was suddenly very on edge. Before she could respond he held out his arm. “Shall we head home?”

Relief washed over Natasha as she nodded and stood. Relief that she was leaving but also relief that Bucky had read her expression so well he knew she was uncomfortable.

Once they were outside and a few paces away from the bar, Bucky dropped her arm. “Don't worry,” he said, “you're not being too obviously cautious. As someone who watched his own back for a year, I figured you'd be nervous to lose sight of him. Better to get out ahead than be caught off guard.”

Natasha nodded. They walked in silence for a block before Bucky had a sudden intake of breath.

“You know,” he started, “I didn't start remembering Steve until he said my name on that bridge.” He paused, gauging her reaction. When she didn't respond, he pressed on. “Something about hearing him say my name triggered something in my brain. And every day after that, I followed the trail until I could remember him, and me, and my life before Hydra. Before the Winter Soldier.”

Natasha folded her arms around her. She hummed in agreement, but said nothing.

“I was just thinking,” Bucky continued, “what if there are other other people I don't remember. People who mean something to me, but I can't remember them.”

This time he paused for a few beats until he was sure Natasha wasn't going to say something. “Do you think I can get them back?”

Natasha shrugged, then realized Bucky wasn't looking at her, so she said, “I don't know. Do you want them back?”

“Of course. Why wouldn't I?”

Natasha shrugged again. “Some memories aren't worth remembering.”

“Trust me, I know that.” Bucky laughed but there was no humor behind it. “I just think there are some good ones in here.” He tapped his head then looked over at Natasha.

Natasha smiled and nodded. She took a deep breath then said, “they programmed me to think I was training to be a ballerina.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Oh,” was all he could muster. This sudden confession took him by surprise. Natasha surely wasn't one to forfeit information about herself without some agenda. But Bucky had no response so he walked in silent shock until she felt comfortable to divulge more information.

Natasha took deep breath. “Those memories always seem so lovely. I was studying Swan Lake; I was Odile, the evil, twin swan. And I was good at it.” She looked up at the sky and shook her head. “But they're not real memories. Sometimes I can't remember what was real and what was fake. One second I'm doing a pirouette and the next I'm shooting someone in the head.”

Bucky exhaled through his mouth loudly. “We’re pretty fucked up.”

Natasha chuckled humorlessly. “Eventually the ballet thing went away, you know. Eventually it was my choice.”

Bucky stopped walking and grabbed Natasha by the shoulders. “That wasn't your choice. You didn't choose to be that. Ok? They fucked with your head so you'd think that. But you had no choice.”

“Neither did you, James,” Natasha said, staring him down. She wasn't sure if what he said was for her benefit or for his, but she was thankful for him. “You're a good man.”

“Ha,” he exhaled. He let go of her shoulders and ran his hands through his hair. “No, I'm not.” He peeked over at her quickly before beginning to walk again. She stepped into stride with him, and they walked silently the rest of the way to their apartment.

 

The next week passed by with barely any new leads on their target. They continued their routine, though a new comradery had formed between them. Halfway through the week Natasha came out of her room in a huff. Bucky was seated on the couch with a mug of coffee, some popcorn, and a netflix queue of What Not to Wear (“they make people feel good about themselves through appropriate clothes, what’s not to like, Natasha?”).

“What’s wrong?” he asked, attempting to maneuver things so he could stand up. But Natasha just plopped down on the couch next to him and grabbed handful of popcorn.

“This mission,” she started, but shoved the popcorn into her mouth. “This target is boring. She doesn’t do anything. Nothing suspicious. When I told Steve he didn’t even seem concerned. Just said ‘stay on course’.” Natasha mimicked Steve’s calm but firm tone when she said it.

Bucky grinned. “That was a great Steve. I’m impressed, really.” He handed the bowl over to her. “You need this more than I do.”

“You’re not curious why she hasn’t made a move yet?”

Bucky stretched carefully, and pulled the blanket on top of him. “Honestly, I’m kind of glad it’s a semi-easy mission. You know, it being my first one and all.” Natasha stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. Bucky attempted at covering his laughter but ended up failing when she flung some popcorn at him. He tried catching them in his mouth but failed miserably and popcorn ended up flying everywhere. Natasha barely cracked a smile the whole time.

Bucky nudged her shoulder. “Come on, Romanoff, lighten up. Take a freebie mission when it’s tossed your way. You do deserve some down time and relaxation every once in awhile.”

Natasha looked at him from the corner of her eye and a smirk began to peek through. Bucky decided to take it a step farther a fling a pillow at her. It hit her in the head and popcorn went flying everywhere. She turned to him with a wicked grin on her face. “Oh, you’ve done it now.” And with that she lunged at him and they toppled off the couch. Natasha had the element of surprise on her side, but Bucky had a metal arm. He had miraculously managed to wrangle his way on top of her but she slipped to the side, kneed him in the chest, and rolled over, managing to successfully pin his left arm under the couch. They were both slightly breathless and inches away from each other. Bucky tried to move but she had him pinned down. She leaned in and whispered, “don’t start a battle if you can’t win the war.”

He could feel her warm breath on his ear and tried hard not to feel the weight of her on top of him. He tried not to think about her hair falling onto his face or the pressure of her hand around his wrist. He could have lied there like that for ages with her. But before he made things harder, he exhaled. “Ok, I forfeit.”

Natasha hummed quietly and released him from her grip. She stood and gently walked over to the closet and pulled out the vacuum while Bucky was left staring at the ceiling. “Defeat doesn’t look good on you, Barnes,” she said.

“Victory looks good on you,” he said.

 

 

Bucky woke suddenly, in a panic, as usual. He had dreamt of Natasha again. This time when they were sparring she had got the drop on him. He was impressed. It was rare when someone got the drop on the Winter Soldier. But then the dream shifted and Natasha was sitting in front of him, her hand on his face. “Recognize me.”

He grabbed his phone off the side table to check the time. It was 4 AM. Bucky rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Admitting to Natasha about his memories had been his way of bridging the gap between them. He’d also hoped that maybe she would produce an explanation for his dreams. Because Bucky never dreamt of new things. They were always faces of people he killed, or those horrible words, or the fear he felt whenever he saw that machine they’d strap him in. These dreams about Natasha were a relief from the horrors that would keep him awake otherwise. But they didn’t make any sense. Was she a memory or was he just fantasizing about her?

Bucky was lost in thought when he heard shouts coming from Natasha’s room. He bolt upright, listening carefully. It might just be her phone or her TV, no need to rush in. Natasha can take care of herself.

But the shouts were getting louder and soon they turned into screams. Natasha screaming. Bucky rushed out of bed, down the hall, and burst into Natasha’s room. But when he arrived she was lying in bed, the covers tangled around her. She was shaking and crying, but otherwise unhurt. Bucky took a hesitant step toward her. “Hey,” he whispered.

She looked up ath Bucky and smiled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She brushed the tears off her cheeks. “It was just a nightmare.”

Bucky nodded his understanding. “As long as you’re ok.” He started to turn to go back to his room when Natasha called out.

“No, wait,” she stuttered. “Will you stay with me?”

Bucky turned to face her to see her face was bare and pleading and the most vulnerable he’d ever seen. Of course he would stay with her. He would probably do anything for her if she asked, he realized. But all he could muster was a nod and climbed into bed next to her.

 

It was a few minutes before Bucky realized he had woken up. Not just woke up but woke up without feeling panicked. He was still slightly disoriented and when he looked around he remembered he was in Natasha’s room. In Natasha’s bed.

Heat blushed his face and chest. He dreamt about her again. It started the same as usual: in that gym where they spared. But this time they were alone. They’d finished sparring; Natasha continued to improve everyday. But now that they were alone, Bucky could drop his act. He stepped closer to her and cupped her face in his hands. “I will always have your back. I will always find you.” Then he leaned in and kissed her. But then the dream shifted and he was lying in bed with her, arms and legs tangled around each other. He was stroking her hair when she whispered, “I think I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Now Bucky was staring at the back of her head, the sun hitting her hair perfectly to make it appear on fire. There was only a breath’s space between them. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but it didn’t feel right. He still wasn’t sure what these dreams meant.

Suddenly, Natasha stirred. She turned over to face him, seemingly forgotten she had asked him to stay with her last night. So when she saw him staring at her, shock swept across her face. Bucky smiled sweetly. “Good morning.” She was beautiful lying there, and Bucky wanted to tell her. But “beautiful” seemed like such a lazy word to describe Natasha.

“Hi,” she said. Shock was quickly replaced with embarrassment. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Please,” Bucky started, “you know how much I understand.” Natasha nodded silently then closed her eyes. They lied there in silence for ages, neither wanting to break the moment.

Bucky was the first to move. His bladder was protesting and he was in dire need of coffee. He got out of bed and walked to the door. Before leaving, he turned back to Natasha. She was watching him. “I’ll start a pot of coffee.”

 

The night after they shared a bed for the first time, Natasha knocked on Bucky’s door around midnight. Bucky opened the door expecting her to have news about the target, but Natasha was standing there in her pajamas.

“Hi,” he said and leaned against the door frame. Natasha had her arms crossed in front of her but her face was timid and open.

“This is stupid,” she admitted, “but last night after… after I woke up, when I fell back to sleep I slept well. I don’t usually sleep well.” She looked at the ceiling, mentally preparing herself to open herself up to him. “I was just wondering-”

“Yes,” Bucky answered before she could even get the full question out. He had admitted to himself that her presence next to him in bed was comforting for some odd reason, and he wanted another peaceful night’s sleep. She nodded and followed him to the bed.

By the week’s end, they switched off bedrooms. He was grateful she had initiated this deal, because he had slept soundly all week with her by his side. True, he was still dreaming about her, but they were a pleasant departure from his usual. Natasha’s presence in them softened the hard reality of what he was. In the dreams she made him feel like a human and not a weapon.

However, he was beginning to get frustrated with them. Every night there was a new scene between him and Natasha, and every morning he woke more confused than the morning before. The problem was Natasha gave nothing away. Steve was an easy read: he almost forced Bucky remember him. But Bucky didn’t know if he knew Natasha or if his mind was just elaborating on his past. But if the dreams were memories, why hadn’t Natasha helped him? Why hadn’t she reminded him?

They’d hit a month undercover and so far had discovered nothing. The target was, to quote Natasha, “boring and not at all evil.” She went to work, had drinks with friends, and went home. Rarely she hosted galas and rarely did she meet with her mystery man.

One particularly boring day of following the target, Bucky decided she wasn’t going to suddenly start doing nefarious deeds. So he hailed a taxi and headed towards the compound. He really had no goal in mind; he’d like to talk to Steve and see why they were still following the target. He also felt like he needed to see some other familiar faces. Maybe he was just becoming accustomed to his new life. Maybe it was just being close to Natasha 24/7 that made him dream of her.

He reached the compound relatively quickly but no one was around. He checked the conference rooms, kitchens, living areas, but there was no sign of anyone. He head out back to check the training area when he finally bumped into someone. Literally, he walked right into Wanda as she turned the corner coming from her bedroom.

“Oh!” She exclaimed when they walked into her. “Sorry, I was-” she stopped when she realized it was Bucky. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi, sorry, I was looking for Steve,” Bucky said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I just thought… he’d be here.”

“He is not,” she said crossing her arms. “He’s out on a mission. I think Tony is here somewhere-”

“No,” Bucky interrupted her. The last thing he wanted was see Tony, of all people. He’d apologize, profusely and continually, until the day he died, but somehow he knew it would never be enough. So they stood there in silence for a few seconds until Wanda broke the silence.

“How have you been doing?” She seemed genuinely interested. Bucky was hesitant to tell her the full details, not wanting her to feel anything she did to him was her fault.

“I’m…,” but he trailed off, unable to find the appropriate words to describe what he was.

“You seem less troubled,” Wanda pushed. “Has your mission been going well?”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. “That’s why I wanted to see Steve. We’ve hit a wall, and I wanted to talk strategies with him.”

She nodded slowly. “He’ll be a away for a while. I’m not a ‘Secret Avenger’ so I’m not privy to the details.” She used air quotes around Secret Avengers and she rolled her eyes. “Can I help you with anything?”

Bucky eyed Wanda up, but he wasn’t afraid of her like others were. He knew what it felt like to be feared and he didn’t fear Wanda. She was a kid with ridiculous powers. He didn’t need to trouble her more than she already was. “I’m ok, thanks Wanda.”

He started to turn away but Wanda grabbed his arm. “Something’s troubling you, James. I didn’t mean to read your mind, but you’re not exactly hiding it.” She wasn’t being forceful, but she wasn’t letting him go. “I can help you remember.”

“I don’t even know if there is anything to remember.” Bucky hadn’t turned back to her, but he didn’t make any movements to leave either. “I don’t want to use you. I respect you, Wanda. I don’t want it to seem like-”

“We’re friends,” she admitted. “I don’t have many friends. You know what it’s like to be used as a weapon. I just want to do some good”

Bucky turned to see her smiling at him. He nodded in agreement and she led him over to a couch. Once he was lying down and comfortable, red tendrils of magic appeared in the air between them. “Ok,” Wanda started, moving the tendrils of red through her fingers. “I want you to think about what’s troubling you, and I’ll follow you down the rabbit hole.” Bucky grimaced but complied.

He thought about Natasha. He pictured her in her black jeans and leather jacket, quintessential red hair flowing down her back. Suddenly the red of her hair burst into flames so bright Bucky’s eyes burned. When the light faded Natasha appeared in front of him, fuzzy at first, but it was her.

She was younger and surrounded by at least a dozen other girls. They were standing in a gym with no windows and only one door. The Red Room. Bucky remembered now. He stood behind a woman waiting for her orders to train the girls.

The image shifted suddenly to Natasha lunging towards him. He countered and slammed into her side. The image shifted again and Natasha had lunged for him again. This time when he countered she changed position and knocked him back. Usually numb to everything, Bucky felt a sudden flash of rage. He rallied and lunged for her. It was reckless because in the next instant she had him on the ground and pinned.

The image changed again and they were alone in the gym. Just like in his dream, he cupped Natasha’s chin in his hand and brought her face to his. The kiss was light and gentle. Bucky pulled away to whisper something in her ear.

The images shifted faster. He saw himself and Natasha in bed together, tangled in sheets. Then he was walking next to her under an umbrella. Then together on a motorcycle. It changed to Bucky nested on a roof with his rifle, scoped in on a target. Natasha was tied to a chair at gunpoint. Bucky shot the target then he was untying her from the chair. She pulled him into a hug and thanked him. “I’ll find you. Just like I always have.”

When the image shifted again, panic washed over Bucky. He was being dragged away from Natasha. He was screaming, and fighting, and pleading to get back to her. He was forced to sit at that machine; his heart was racing. No. They were going to wipe him, wipe his memories, wipe Natasha out. He fought as hard as he could until the pain came. He saw Natasha flash before his eyes then nothing. When he woke up next he was empty, cold, numb.

Bucky jolted upright from the couch. He was breathing heavy and his heart was stammering so hard he thought he would pass out. “I loved her,” was all he could manage. He stared wildly at Wanda, trying to focus on the present.

A soothing sensation washed over him, and Wanda stood up. “I’m so sorry, James.” She moved towards him and put her hand on his arm.

Bucky sat back on the couch and ran a hand over his face. “I loved her, and they punished me for it.” Wanda didn’t say anything. They sat there for a few moments waiting for Bucky to fully accept what he had just seen.

Eventually Bucky turned to Wanda and surprised her by bear hugging her. “Thank you so much, Wanda,” he said into her hair. “I can never repay you. I am in your debt.” Wanda hadn’t been hug like that in so long, she tightened her grip on Bucky and nodded, too emotional for words.

 

Natasha was sitting at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee, and monitoring the target’s movements when Bucky burst through the front door. He was breathing heavy and sweating slightly. When he spotted Natasha, he broke into a smile. A smile that brightened his whole face and made him look more alive than Natasha had ever seen him.

“Hi,” was all he said. He hadn’t moved far from the front door. He didn’t know what to do with his hands or his legs or his brain, so he just stood there, trying to catch his breath.

“Are you ok?” Natasha asked, standing.

“Oh, yes. The elevator was moving too slow, so I ran up the steps.”

“And why would you need to get here faster than normal?” Worry crept over Natasha. Bucky hadn’t checked in with her this morning like usual. Maybe something happened with the target. She took a step towards Bucky. But Bucky was smiling at her like she was the only thing on earth. She tried to ignore that feeling in her stomach. He hadn’t looked at her that was in decades and now was not the time. “Spit it out, Barnes.”

Bucky closed the distance between them and cupped Natasha’s chin in his hand. “I remember you, Natalia.” Natasha’s chest tightened and she closed her eyes. When she took a breath in she could smell his scent. She reached for Bucky’s other hand and interlaced her fingers through his.

“Do you remember it all?” Natasha whispered. She wanted more than anything to believe Bucky remembered her, remembered them. But she’d gotten her hope up before just to be crushed. So she kept her eyes closed while she waited for his response.

“I remember it all, Natalia,” he murmured, moving closer to her, “and you were the one good thing in all of it.”

He leaned in to kiss her but Natasha had already closed the gap between their lips. She wanted to kiss him, really kiss him, since that first day on the job. Since before that, really. When she saw him in that glass box, her heart broke. He glazed over her without a second thought. Then when he escaped, she had let her guard down too much and he got the drop on her. She hoped maybe she could jog his memory like Steve had, but he was unrelenting.

But now, here he was in front of her, kissing her, remembering her. She never wanted to let him go. He’d moved his hand from under her chin to the side of her face. He released her hand and moved his to her hip. Slowly he pushed her up against the kitchen bar. Natasha wrapped her arms around him tightly.

Bucky was so hungry for her, to touch her, to kiss her. He pulled back, though, enough to look at her properly. “I’m sorry I forgot you. I’m sorry I couldn’t find you.”

Natasha opened her eyes. He was staring at her, eyes glistening. “You did find me, James.”

 

By the evening, Natasha had completely forgotten about the mission. She was pretty sure Bucky had forgotten as well, since they hadn’t left the bedroom all day. Their clothes were scattered to the wind, a lamp had been knocked over, and Natasha was almost positive they may have broken the box spring. They were lying in the dark, Natasha on top of Bucky. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was a steady thumping until she moved her hand up his side. She heard it speed up and then he laughed.

“We should sleep,” he said. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers threw her hair. “But if you keep teasing me, we’ll never get there.”

Natasha chuckled. “I could knock you out.”

“You’d love that.” Natasha picked her head up to meet his gaze. She kissed him deeply; he returned the kiss by rolling over so he was on top of her. “Goodnight, Natalia.” Then he rolled onto his side and wrapped his arm around her.

She nuzzled into him and was, for the first time in a long time, content.

 

The next day, Bucky and Natasha had struggled to get out of bed. They had to keep reminding each other that there was a mission to focus on, but neither had the strength to pull away.

In the end, Natasha had the sense to at least bring the laptop out to track the target. She didn’t expect anything new or different, she wasn’t even sure why they were following her. So far, all that she had done suspicious was have dinner with that man.

Natasha was scrolling through the list of recent texts and calls when Bucky appeared over her shoulder. He leaned in suddenly. “Wait a second,” he said, pointing to the screen. “I know this number.”

Natasha turned to look at him as he pulled out his phone. Bucky raised an eyebrow when he reached the correct contact. “You’ll never guess who’s number it is.”

 

Natasha and Bucky pulled up on the compound. They decided the element of surprise would work better in their favor. Natasha led the way, as she was worried Bucky would get a little too aggressive. They walked into the living area to find Steve and Sam. Steve was sitting in a recliner and Sam was lounging on the couch, both watching a baseball game.

Sam and Steve hadn’t noticed them at first, so when Natasha cleared her throat they both startled. “Hello boys,” she said. She crossed her arms and shifted her gaze between the two. “Care to explain what’s going on?”

Sam looked over at Steve then back to Natasha. “We’re watching the game?”

“Why are you calling our target, Wilson?” Bucky accused, stepping forward. Natasha put a hand on his chest to calm him down.

Realization washed over Sam’s expression. “Oh, that. You’ll have to ask the architect about that.” He glanced over at Steve. 

Bucky’s anger toward Sam slowly ebbed away as he shifted his focus to Steve, who had laced his fingers together behind his head and put his feet up on the coffee table.

“Explain, Rogers,” Natasha demanded, focusing her steely gaze on Steve.

“What! You're the only one allowed to play matchmaker, Romanoff?” A broad smile crept across his face as he looked between Natasha and Bucky. Bucky glanced at Sam who was hiding his face in his hands. “Sam let slip some information he heard from a little birdy-”

“Enough with the bird puns, man,” Sam groaned behind his hands. “Wanda told me when she was in your mind she noticed some hidden memories about Natasha. I just passed the information to Steve.” Natasha gave Sam a pointed look. “It's not my fault y'all seem to think because I counsel veterans I want to hear about your problems too.”

“And I've read both your files,” Steve continued, focusing their attention back to him. “Certain timetables matched up between you. I put two and two together and voila.”

Bucky and Natasha stood there gaping at Steve who was wearing such a smug face Natasha wanted to walk over to him and slap him. Bucky crossed his arms and stared between the two men. “So the target…”

“Is my friend,” Sam said, sitting up on the couch. “I asked her if she wanted to help with some official Avengers business and she more than gladly agreed.”

“So you lied to us,” Natasha said to Steve.

“Do you really think I'd let the most notorious spy and the man accused it terrorism to undercover work so soon? Give me some credit, Romanoff.” He turned off the TV and stood up. “Vision is making dinner if you'd like to join us.” He walked off towards the kitchen. Sam made a move to follow when he made eye contact with Bucky.

“I got my eye on you, Wilson,” Bucky said. Sam rolled his eyes and followed Steve out.

Bucky and Natasha were alone again, but the anger and betrayal from Steve vanished as Steve left the room. Bucky put an arm around Natasha’s shoulders as he started walking towards the kitchen. “They're lucky it worked.” He kissed her forehead and she allowed Bucky to lead her into the kitchen where her friends were waiting for them.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first real fic, so go easy on me! (:


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